"been gone so long i never came back"

or something. i can't remember how that goes. that's another thing that's gone. my memory. supposedly my ovaries are all dried up like prunes right now from the medicine i had injected into my hip six weeks ago. this medical treatment that lasts three months is a terrible acid trip i have to withstand for six more weeks. right now i'm peaking. it's not as much fun as real peaking, although, you know, maybe peaking never really was fun. always the most intense part of the trip. the moments when you have to hold to your seat or you might get bucked off the ride permanently.

so, i stopped writing about my physical experiences, because, like i mentioned before, i don't want this...whatever...BLOG, uh, stupid name...to become a women's health journal, all crunchy and berkeleyish. i'm terrified of having female epiphanies where i realize i'm a goddess or something. how gross. so, i stopped writing i think because that's all i know right now. all the things going on physically. my brain is filled with a bitchy voice all day long, swearing at buses that are too full and come too seldom, at people who stand in the middle of the sidewalk in a daze, at knobs that don't turn easily enough, at the shower which stinks of bleach, at the food that i burned with lemon, at the food that got old because i didn't eat it in the time allotted, at the stiches in my finger making it difficult to wash my hair, at how dumb it is to be so clumsy as to have to get stitches in a finger that makes it difficult to wash hair, at my increasingly bad back and the doctor who won't make the phone calls to a surgeon for me, seriously what doctor hands a patient a note with a doctor's name scrawled on it and the instruction to call, that the appointment should come pretty soon and then i call and they say it's going to be 8 weeks and i tell them that i can't stand anymore for longer than 2 minutes unless i'm drunk and can't feel the nerve shoots over my hips and down my right leg and their advice is to call another doctor. you know, i guess that sounds reasonable but to me it is ridiculousness of the highest level, it makes me want to tear a house apart with my bare fingers. in fact the anger that is inside me is kind of scary.

it's things like this that have kept me from writing because what do i sound like? a bitch. guess what i feel like? a bitch. these hormones are making it difficult to be normal, they really are, but you know what, i'm just peaking and all peaking ends at some point. it does. i know from the 65 hits of acid i have taken in my lifetime.

too bad this drug doesn't make me laugh like an insane hyena. i always loved that part of LSD. hey, anyone got any? i could really use an insane hyena laugh about now.

xo

ps. sorry to my friend, E. for the gross picture. i know he isn't into gross stuff.